


check those flower names (they can be confusing)

by DrowningInMyIlliteracy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dimension Travel, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Mistaken Identity, Summoning, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInMyIlliteracy/pseuds/DrowningInMyIlliteracy
Summary: When the Order of the Phoenix summoned a hero from the beyond, they didn't expect to get Lily Potter instead of the Champion they were hoping for.but,They didn't exactly get Lily Potter anyway.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Harry Potter
Comments: 105
Kudos: 403





	1. What's this Flower Called Again?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On a Pale Horse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446057) by [Hyliian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyliian/pseuds/Hyliian). 



> get ready for a ride

Magic swirls around them, whipping up their hair and robes in a fury of manic movement. Candles flare and flicker, dancing in the magic. Quickly the intensity and saturation of the magic threatens to overwhelm them all. 

Suddenly it stops, the world pauses, allowing the summoners to breathe for just a moment. Then the energy rages to the center of the summoning circle, condensing into a white ball that seems to want to pull them all into its depths. The ball explodes, sending a wave of condensed magic through them all, and suddenly there is a figure in their summoning circle.

They’ve done it, they think as the figure rises, We’ve saved us all! The figure is a woman in her mid-thirties adorned in muggle clothes, a sweater and jeans. What catches most of their attention is the deep vermillion hair streaked in white that hides the woman's face from view.

Dumbledore steps forward, “Hello, my dear-” The woman tenses, face still pointed at the ground, a wand appears in her grip. Dumbledore raises his hands in a placating gesture, “-I realize this must be very confusing for you. You see, we-”

“You summoned me,” She interrupts, hand tightening on her wand. Snape stares at the familiar wand, recognition dawning on him as

The woman raises her emerald gaze.

“Why,” says a very much alive Lily Potter.

* * *

“Lily?”

Heather Lily Evans Potter, though she preferred to go by Harry, stared at the assembled people before her. At thirty-four soon to be thirty-five, Harry felt she was much too old to deal with such _bullshit_. Logically, she knew she was relatively young for a witch, case and point see one Albus Dumbledore, but the amount of shit she was put through when she was young made her feel about fifty years older than she already was. For Merlin’s sake, she’s even got white in her hair. She should be entitled to a fucking break once in a while, but _no_.

“Is that you?” asked Molly Weasley.

She has to deal with _this_.

Harry sighed, “Hello, Molly,” she greeted, trying not to look at the previously dead people in the room. She heard gasps erupt and fought a grimace as people started murmuring.

_“Lily! We summoned Lily P-”_

_“-n’t she supposed to be-”_

_“-can’t believe-”_

_“-rry will be-”_

Suddenly Dumbledore clapped his hands, bringing her, and the Orders, attention to him, “It is splendid to see you Lily, my dear,” He smiled, “but if we could get to the matter at hand..?” a few Order members looked a bit contrite.

Harry idly wondered if she went by Lily here as she nodded, “Thank you, now, why have I been summoned?” she asked, twirling her mothers wand between her fingers.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at her and she felt something brush against her occlumency barriers. She blinked and stared incredulously at the old headmaster, _Did he just-_

“Well, my dear girl,” he chuckled seemingly ignoring her accusing stare, “Our goal was to summon a hero in which to vanquish Voldemort-” most of the gathered magicals flinched,”-but we seemed to have summoned you instead,” He peered over his glasses, “Would you happen to know why? I find myself somewhat uncharacteristically flummoxed.”

Harry narrowed her eyes. Were they serious? That sounded kind of- kind of sexist to her, not to mention the uncalled for mind-reading attempt not ever moments before. She glanced at the faces of the order and found confusion there as well. 

With steadily boiling irritation she looked at the summoning circle she was standing in. It looked pretty complicated to her, but she didn’t really know much about summoning. Squinting she crouched to get a better look at what had caught her attention. _Is that…?_ She pulled out her reading glasses from her back pocket and put them on. _It is!_ She stood up and walked to another part of the circle and read what she could. She couldn’t really read much but she got the gist of it she thinks.

“...Mrs. Potter?”

“Ms,” Harry automatically corrected, “I’ve never been married, nor do I plan to be.”

_“What!”_ chorused several people. Harry jerked in surprise and looked up from where she was reading the summon script. She stared at them and they stared at her. She noted some particularly befuddled faces in the remaining marauders.

“...What?” She asked, irritated. Even Dumbledore looked utterly baffled.

They all looked at each other, “But… What about James?” Sirius asked, sounding oddly hurt.

Harry furrowed her eyebrows and stood up, “James Potter?” she asked and he nodded, “What about him?”

Silence filled the room as they stared at her. She pursed her lips and decided to discard the line of conversation, “You must realize,” she started, pulling them out of they’re reveries, “that when you are pulling from parallel dimensions around your own, you can never get _exactly_ what you want, but you _can_ get pretty damn close,” She gave Dumbledore a look, “So _what exactly_ were your parameters?”

Instead of Dumbledore, Remus spoke up beside him hesitantly, “We wanted someone who has defeated You-Know-Who once before.” 

Harry nodded, “That seems to be uncorrupted, what else did you set?”

She heard a scoff and tuned toward Moody, “Are you saying that _you_ defeated Voldemort, Evans?” he sneered.

She snorted, “I assassinated him when I was twenty, so I suppose I didn’t exactly _defeat_ him.” Really, who knew that the power the dark lord knew not was a modern sniper rifle, “So what’s the next one?”

“You assassinated him?” Sirius blurted, half amused, half disbelieving.

“How?” followed Tonks.

She rolled her eyes, ignoring Dumbledore’s disappointed grandfather look, “Yes, gun,”

“Gun?” asked an Order member she didn’t know.

“Muggle weapon,” She amended, then prompted “Next parameter?”

Remus cut in before any more questions were asked, “A wizard comparable to the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot to her hairline, “Ah, I see,” she grumbled internally, “I am definitely not a wizard,” Her eyebrows dropped down into a furrow, “Boy-Who-Lived?” she asked.

They stared at her, again. Honestly, she was the Girl-Who-Lived, but if they had a Boy-Who-Lived… why would they be calling her Lily? She frowned.

Dumbledore ah-ha’ed, “I see, you have no children, yes?” She nodded, _What does that have to do with-_ “Since Voldemort was… defeated quite early in your world-” _Early?_ “-there is no need for the Boy-Who-Lived,” He smiled compassionately at her and turned to the Order, “And of course, Ms. Evans never married James Potter,” _Wait_ , she realized, _they think I’m-_ “I’m afraid Harry never had a chance to be conceived,” He finished sadly.

_They think I’m Lily Evans._

The Headmaster turned back to her, “Out of curiosity my dear, did James happen to have any children himself?”

Harry nodded dazedly, “A daughter,”

_By Merlin,_ she thought.

“Fascinating,” he stroked his beard, “We simply must compare our worlds don’t you think?”

“Sure,” she replied.

_I’m a fucking idiot._


	2. Snapdragons and Flytraps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summoning circle is doing something to her.
> 
> Discussions are had, worlds briefly compared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer crashed four times while writing this lmao

Intellectually, Harry knew she was nearly identical to her mother. It always, almost without fail, came up in conversation with people who'd known Lily Potter.

_"You look just like your mother!"_

But this, well. She'd obviously underestimated the resemblance. 

She should have noticed sooner, really, but thinking was like slogging through mud at the moment. The summoning circle was blocking her from thinking- from _feeling_... something. She couldn't exactly tell what it was, but the fact that she was hindered _this much_ meant she must be feeling whatever she was feeling _very strongly_.

Molly looked heartbroken, "Oh _Lily_ , I'm so sorry, that must have been horrible for you!" She and a few Order members looked at Harry in pity, "Why, if Arthur had married someone else I don't know what I'd do!" 

Harry shook her head and pretended she didn't have pudding instead of a brain, "I didn't-"

"Wait," Sirius chimed in, "if James had a daughter, who did he marry?"

They all looked at her, "I-" _don't know,_ her throat abruptly closed up, almost making her choke. She struggled for a moment, before sighing. The circle was preventing her from lying, it was preventing- preventing... well, it was doing something. 

Mad-Eye squinted at her suspiciously, but Molly, Remus, and some of the others looked very concerned, "Lily?" Molly queried.

"I think...," Harry started to walk to the edge of the circle. She needed to get out of this thing. But, as she got closer to the edge, it got harder and... harder... to...

To...

What was she doing again?

Harry blinked then smiled. This was very pleasant, nice, floaty. A small voice screamed that it wasn't right. Harry frowned, but smiled again. This was nice.

"Ah, Ms. Evens," said the very beardy man.

"Hmm?" she hmm'ed, humming.

"Walk to the center of the circle, my dear," continued the beard.

 _Circle?_ Harry blinked. Oh! She was standing in a circle, how nice, "'Kay!" she chirped.

She wobbled to the middle of the pretty circle. It was a very pretty circle, with lots of lines and stuff. Very pretty. _NO._ She frowned, maybe not so pretty then. She didn't like it.

"I don't like it," Harry dutifully informed them, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. Her hands clattered on the ground and she blinked. Hands don't make that sound. She looked down, "Oh!" she gasped.

She was holding a _very pretty_ wand.

* * *

Sirius gaped as Lily stared, practically enraptured, at her wand. She was like an easily distracted child, it actually reminded him of when Harry was a toddler. It made him uneasy. When she first arrived she looked on the verge of cursing them all, but then... The whole situation made his hair stand on end. Sirius had been against summoning someone against their will from the beginning, well kind of, they were a little desperate, but this was _a_ _Lily._

"Why is she acting like that?" His voice startled Lily. She looked at him confused and frowned faintly. 

Snivellus scoffed from the back of the room, "It's the holding ward," he sneered, but even he seemed disturbed by Lily's behavior.

Sirius glared, that didn't answer anything, " _Why is she acting like that_ ," he asserted. Remus laid his hand on Sirius' shoulder. He bristled, seeing Lily like this, even if she wasn't their Lily, was extremely disconcerting.

Dumbledore patted his hand, "Worry not Sirius, it is simply preventing Ms. Evans from leaving until we come to an agreement. It is not unlike a particularly strong confundus, or light obliviate." Sirius didn't really like the sound of that.

"Oh, Albus," Molly fretted, "Are we sure that's safe?"

The headmaster chuckled, "It's only temporary Molly dear, she will come back to her senses shortly." He gestured toward Lily, who already looked more coherent than before. Her eyes narrowed behind her reading glasses and her free hand rubbed her forehead.

Molly wrung her hands, "Well if you're sure she'll be alright," she sighed, "I still cannot wrap my mind around it, she must be so lonely! We really must introduce her to the children, Harry especially,"

Moody sneered, "And let an unknown near the Boy-Who-Lived? Do you have no sense?"

"Unknown?! It's Lily!" Molly gasped, scandalized, "She's his mother!"

"Potter's mother is dead," he scoffed. Sirius almost growled as his hackles rose, Remus stiffened beside him, "This woman is _unknown_ , she's already tried lying once and it was for a useless question like _that_."

Dumbledore tutted, "Now Alastor, you really mustn't speak so casually about the dead. Try to be kinder in the future, if you would." Moody crossed his arms and grunted. Dumbledore nodded, satisfied, and continued, "However, while I believe Ms. Evans had good reason to lie-"

"It _was_ a pretty insensitive question," Tonks interrupted, "I would've lied about my ex-boyfriend's wife too. If I had one that is," she tacked on.

"-Alastor does indeed have a point I'm afraid," He turned to Lily, who was watching them with slightly glazed eyes, and smiled apologetically, "You are a bit of an 'unknown' as Alastor put it." Lily's gaze cleared the rest of the way and sharpened. "Would you be opposed to a few questions, my dear?"

Lily narrowed her eyes and tapped her wand against her knee. Sirius was immediately reminded of their Lily when she was annoyed. It was uncanny how similar the two were. Well, this Lily was much older, but all that did was highlight how _young_ Lily and James were when they died. 

Lily stopped, "I don't really have a choice," she waved at the summoning circle, "This thing won't let me leave without permission, _that_ ," she pointed to a specific place in the script surrounding her, "Is making it so I can't lie, so even if I _wanted_ to lie I _can't_. I _could_ just refuse to speak-"

"You-" Moody started.

" _But,_ " she spoke over him, "I can't do that, because I don't want to be in this thing," she turned and pointed to another script, " _This_ is preventing me from thinking of something _very_ specific _and_ it's blocking me from feeling one of my emotions," she crossed her arms, wand going _tap tap tap_ on her elbow, "I don't know what those two things are exactly, but I am apparently trying to do both those things _very intensely._ It's made thinking a little difficult and I like being able to think clearly. I kind of _have_ to answer those questions if I want to get out of this."

He hadn't thought they could force a Lily to do _anything_. She was a force of nature when she got into it. This Lily was too calm.

Sirius _really_ didn't like this. He, like most of the Order, had known the ritual would keep whoever, even whatever, was summoned from hurting the summoners before it could be bound, but he hadn't thought it would do... _that._ Sirius knows what it's like not being able to feel something, but at least he'd _known_ what he wasn't feeling. This Lily didn't even get that luxury. If it could be called one. Sirius scowled, suddenly angry at himself, the Order, and bloody You-Know-Who for pushing them this far.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "I wouldn't say that, my dear," Sirius stared at the headmaster incredulously. Was he serious?

Lily blinked, "Just ask them, please," she tucked a white-streaked strand behind her ear.

"Very well," he acquiesced, "I find myself curious, would you mind answering Sirius' earlier question?"

Molly gasped, " _Albus!"_

"No, it's fine Molly," Lily had an odd expression on her face, "I said I'd answer them."

Sirius wanted to say she didn't have to, but... He couldn't even fathom James being with anyone except Lily. He didn't think James could be in love with anyone other than Lily with how he went on about her. It'd never crossed his mind that other James Potters might be different.

Lily paused, "I... never really got the chance to meet her," she started, "I can't say I know what her name was, and before I could even get the chance to know her... she and James were murdered," Lily twisted her wand between her fingers and hummed sadly, "They were only twenty-one."

Dumbledore nodded forlornly, "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, my dear. Our James and Lily died very much the same way, unfortunately."

"Wait," Tonks said, "Who murdered them if you killed You-Know-Who? He got them here." Moody nodded in approval, muttering something. Sirius frowned in confusion.

Lily's lips thined, "The Death Eaters didn't exactly go away with Voldemort," they flinched, "It took almost a decade to arrest and sentence them all."

The headmaster frowned, "Did they not deserve second chances? I'm sure many regretted their actions."

"Second- They're _Death Eaters!_ " Sirius blurted. They didn't deserve anything less than imprisonment or death!

Dumbledore gazed at Sirius in disappointment, "Everyone deserves a second chance, Sirius. I'm sure Ms. Evans knows this as well," he looked at her expectantly.

Lily just shrugged, "I never when to any of their trials, so I wouldn't know."

Dumbledore sighed, "A pity," he thought for a moment, "Tell us about yourself, please,"

Lily stared at him, "Well, I have a Charms and Defence mastery," she floundered a bit, "I don't really have friends... and the ones I did have aren't exactly..." Sirius abruptly remembered that besides Alice, Lily didn't have any friends that weren't the Marauders. This Lily probably didn't even have the Marauders as friends what with James marrying someone else.

Remus coughed uncomfortably, "Was Alice...?"

"Tortured horribly to the point of insanity?" mumbled Lily, clutching her arm, "Yes."

 _"Oh,_ Lily..." Molly exclaimed.

Lily stood up, "Do you think we could stop, Headmaster? I don't want to answer any more questions,"

Dumbledore smiled faintly, "Of course, Ms. Evans. Unfortunately, we need you to agree to some conditions before you are released,"

 _Conditions?_ Sirius stumbled mentally. Was Dumbledore really going through with this?

Lily nodded wearily, "Alright." She took off her glasses, putting them in her pocket, and sighed, "What are they?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Sirius' guts dropped as Dumbledore's magic flooded the air, _"_ _Do you, Lily Evans, Agree to do Everything in your power to assist the Order of the Pheonix in all of its ventures, to do Everything in your power to defeat the Dark Lord known as Voldemort, no matter what it takes to achieve those goals?"_

Sirius grimaced as Lily's face grew with disbelief. Every word pulsed with magic, causing glowing white lines filled with runes to crawl up her legs. Sirius wanted to scream for Dumbledore to stop but knew disturbing the magic would do more harm than good. As the last words echoed around the underground stone room, the binding runes settled on Lily's ankles, wrist, and neck. 

Lily's eyes filled with something unidentifiable replacing her previous disbelief- but then her eyes abruptly glazed over. The runes adorning her glowed ever brighter, _"I Do,"_ She echoed.

Dumbledore spread his arms and hands wide, _"So Mote it Be,"_

The summoning circle and binding runes flashed even brighter, almost blinding him, and disappeared. Everything stilled and some Order member sighed in relief.

Then Lily dropped like a rock, thudding on the floor and her wand clattering right after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles*


	3. Garden Marigolds, Rosemary, and Peach Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was Harry doing before she was summoned?  
> Harry wakes up and gets a package

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really proud of how long this chapter is. I've never written this much ever!

_ In downtown London, in a two-story townhouse, Harry sat in her spatially expanded library. The books, most of which had been relocated from the black library, lined the walls ceiling to floor in tightly packed rows. Harry had been stuck there for two days doing a favor for Hermione; researching the origin of house elfs. Hermoine had admitted that in her righteous moral fury she’d actually forgotten to research anything about them. For fifteen years. But Hermoine, being the Minister of Magic, was currently too busy to do anything.  _

_ Harry hadn’t really paid attention after Hermione uttered ‘S.P.E.W.’ Thinking it would be yet another failed house elf rights proposal. Hermione had already tried proposing wages for years, yet both wizards and house elfs didn’t really seem to care. Except for Dobby and a few other elf friends he found, usually younger elfs. They never seemed to have trouble getting wages though. Frankly, Harry hadn’t really cared herself either, if they were happy with what they had, who was she to force the issue? _

_ Harry had honestly only been doing this because Hermione was her friend. Friends help friends, right? The research had been slow going for the first day and a half, Harry not really interested, took a lot of breaks, and got distracted often half the time. Harry also didn’t have many books on house elfs either, which made sense, most of her books came from the black library after all. So the other half of the time was spent waiting for owl order books to arrive. _

_ Most books that she’d already had, and the ones she’d ordered, were just on how to order a house elf around, train them, bread them, and discipline them. Which was mostly hit/yell at them till they did it, but with excessive prose and unnecessary filler words. _

_ But then she got something different. _

_ The book was old, pages yellowed, leather binding oddly frayed. When it was delivered it came with a note informing her that it was one of the last copies, the original copy hadn’t been duplicated in centuries and could no longer be found. When she opened it, everything was handwritten.  _

_ At first, it was just more of the same horrific drivel, the writing a complete and utter slog to go through. But as she got further and further into the book the more incredulous and disturbed she became. _

_ According to the author, the servants, house elfs Harry assumed, weren’t native to the British isles. Or anywhere, really. See, the Statue of Secrecy came into being around the time where pretty much all servants were muggles, and since the newly instated Ministry couldn’t have any non-wizards about, they had all of the muggles obliviated and sent out. _

_ The wizarding families, not used to having to do things themselves, like clean their floors, quickly looked for replacements. One wizard eventually decided summoning was the way to go and went about repurposing a ‘demonic’ ritual for his specific needs. He ended up writing a book on how to do it once he got it right and it quickly became common practice to summon servants from the ‘beyond’. _

_ The book didn’t go into the particulars of the summoning ritual, but it did mention that a true name was needed for the binding to work. Luckily, it did cite the book the unnamed wizard wrote and Harry ended up sending a query and a handful of galleons, in case it was purchasable, to the publishing company, hopefully still in business. _

_ While waiting for the owl to return, either with a book or a polite apology, Harry was searching for anything demony from the numerous black books. Seeing as the original ritual was ‘demonic’ or whatever that meant. _

_ But just as she was about to open a particularly promising tome Harry’s magical core was jerked on, making her drop the book and stumble. Harry caught herself on the bookshelf as her core jerked again and an overwhelming urge to follow something took hold. Harry narrowed her eyes and flared her magic, which she immediately regretted as her magic got stuck on the thing jerking her. _

_ And _

_ Harry _

_ Fell _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_ Harry’s vision filled with white as she hit the ground in a crouch. Thuds rang out around her as people suddenly fell to the stone floor. Slowly standing up, she took stock of the situation. She was in a large stone room with stairs against the wall, leading up to a closed hatch. Nine wizards and witches were getting up from the floor, some gracefully, others not so much. She recognized most of them, the others not so much. _

_ Pretty much all of these people were supposed to be dead. The biggest offenders being Albus Dumbledore, who was patting off his horribly colored robes right in front of her, and her godfather, Sirius Black, who was just to the right of her, still on the floor staring in shock. _

_ Remus Lupin stood between Dumbledore and Sirius, Tonks was on the left of her, and Mad-Eye was between the female Auror and the headmaster. Harry couldn’t really tell who was behind her but she knew there were about four of them. All of the gathered people were surrounding her, just outside of a summoning… circle… _

_ Harry’s nostrils flared in simmering rage and she tensed as Dumbledore stepped forward, “Hello, my dear-,” Her fury built and she willed a wand, any wand, from her pocket space. She just needed  _ something! _ She  _ knew  _ what this was- _

_ Dumbledore raised his hands, face slightly smug, and she suddenly couldn’t remember what she was so angry for, “-I realize this must be very confusing for you. You see, we-” _

_ “You Summoned me,” Harry accused, hand tightening on the wand that had come to her aid for some reason. Harry knew she was angry, she was never angry without reason nowadays, but she just couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she was so angry right now. There had to be a reason and she was trying to hold on to the anger, but it was slipping through her finger like water. _

_ “Why,” she asked, turning her head up and looking around. She noted Molly by Tonks and Snape right behind her looking constipated. What was she feeling so intensely just a moment ago?  _

_ Mm, probably didn’t really matter. _

* * *

Harry woke up groggily, body aching. She had a moment of overwhelming confusion when her gaze hit the old dilapidated ceiling. She slowly sat up, her muscles protesting, and blearily took in the room.

Predawn light softly filtered in from the window, making the walls and bedspread a washed-out gray. The walls were bare, save for the few cracks in the peeling paint. In the left-hand corner was a dusty wardrobe, seemingly untouched.

Harry was seated on a twin bed right in the middle of the back wall, the sheets were thin but soft, and the blanket was practically covered in dust. Which was disturbed by her presumingly moving about in the night.

Harry had no idea where she was. The room was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how she got there. Hell, the last thing she remembered was an owl coming into her library to drop off a book, and it was around noon then.

The bed squeaked as Harry shakily got up, she grimaced tiredly, what the fuck had she been doing? Her muscles and bones felt like they’d been torn apart and reassembled again. Every step she took sent aching pain through her entire body, but she could deal with it.

Her whole being felt grimey and sweaty. She needed a shower. Harry stumbled out of the dusty room into an equally dusty hallway, something bubbled in her core, and let instinct hopefully guide her to the bathroom.

Floorboards groaned and shifted as she shuffled through the house, eventually the hallway opened into a stairway and Harry dully stared in confusion.

She was in Grimmauld Place, not that she knew  _ how. _ It was dirtier and, well, grimmer than she remembered, but it definitely was the old Black house. The last time it was this dirty was around her fourth or fifth year. She didn’t remember which at the moment.

Harry shook her head lightly, trying to dispel the headache that was forming, and set a course for the nearest bathroom, instead of blindly wandering around for one, now that she knew where she was.

She opened the bathroom door and grimaced in disgust. Grime lined nearly everything, the toilet had some sort of green slime leaking out the bottom, and moss was growing out of the floor corner by the shower. Cobweb was stuffed into the ceiling corners, spiders crawling in the webs.

Harry pushed aside the shower curtain and gagged at the smell, she quickly pulled the curtain back into place. Something was decaying in there, and Harry really didn’t care to know what it was.

Harry bent over away from the shower and took deep breaths. What was going  _ on? _ She mentally stuttered as her wrists lit up and her magic roughly poked her. She abruptly wanted to start scrubbing the place top to bottom.

Harry straightened and pointed her hand at the sink to cast a  _ scourgify _ , but stopped as she realized she wasn’t holding a wand. Her hands itched and the sudden compulsion was swept away by a slightly different wave of magic.

She wobbled to the sink and gripped the sides, breathing heavily. What was happening? She twisted the knob and a rattling noise issued from the pipes. Water shot out into the sink, dark and dirty, splashing slightly. After a moment the water ran clear and she cupped the liquid into her hands jerkily, getting her sweater sleeves wet.

Harry splashed the cold water on her face and started rubbing, getting the scuz and sweat off. She took her hands off to get more water and startled at the substance on them. She’d forgotten she’d put on makeup during one of her study breaks, or well, when she was avoiding the research.

She looked up at the mirror, dirty with grime, and was hit with another cleaning urge. She started scrubbing the surface with her wet sleeve without thinking but stopped when the compulsion suddenly went away. Harry slowly took her hand away from the slightly cleaner mirror and stared at herself.

Her makeup was smeared across her skin in watery blotches, revealing her previously covered scar and exhausted face. Bits of hair stuck to her pale skin and she noticed a few more streaks of white in the red. 

She stared at her neck and lifted up her hair to get a better look. Runes covered it in a scarlike shade, wrapping all the way around in a perfect loop. Her sweater sleeves rode up as she lifted her hair, revealing similar markings on her wrists.

She didn’t- What was- Why-

Harry pressed her hands to her face, headache blaring.

What  _ the fuck  _ was _ going on. _

* * *

Harry scowled as a wave of her magic pulled her from another cleaning episode. It kept happening over and over. She would notice something dirty and space out. Next thing she knows she's scrubbing the floor or, like now, trying to cast  _ scourgify _ wandlessly. It was like her magic was split down the middle and fighting the other half constantly. One side was weirdly bubbly, compelling her to go somewhere, do something, or force an emotion on her. The other was a bit sharp, always seeking and popping the compulsions.

It was giving her a headache. She figured the pushing and pulling of her magic was what was making her so sore. The perpetual conflict gave her muscles and bones micro-tears and fractures. Her body caught in the crossfire of a magical rift. It was uncomfortable but manageable.

Harry dropped her hand and sighed. Manageable as it was, her magic was the opposite. She didn’t know if she could even cast spells reliably with how her magic was acting. She’d thought about trying, but she needed a wand for that, and every time she even considered beckoning one of the wands in her pocket space, her instincts would practically scream at her not to.

Harry turned from the dirt spot that’d distracted her and got back to walking to the room she woke up in. She still couldn’t remember how she got here, and she couldn’t leave. Harry’d tried, but every time she got close to the door a barrier would pop up and her magic would compel her to stay. Apparating was out of the question with her magic so wonky and flying out on a broom wouldn’t work as the barrier would pop up on the windows too.

At this point, Harry was just done. It’d only been an hour or three since she woke up, and she was tired, angry, and confused. She just wanted to sleep until things made sense and her head stopped hurting, but she kept stopping to _clean_ _for no reason_ -

Harry growled and stomped to the bedroom door. She yanked it open, stalked to the bed, and flopped down sending dust into the air. The dust lit up in the morning sun, just rising over the horizon. Harry sneezed, making her head throb.

Harry crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling. She wanted to sleep but knew she wouldn’t be able to. She was just too-

Harry startled as an owl burst from her jeans, clutching a brown paper package. It flapped above her for a moment looking absolutely, ha, harried, and dropped the package on her face. She cursed, ripping it off, and glared at the glorified messenger pigeon. It screeched at her and dived back into the pocket space.

Harry stared, pain momentarily forgotten. She’d  _ never _ seen an owl go through the pocket space before. Sure, it was possible, she’d made sure of it during its creation, but they usually absolutely refused to do so. She’d been on the other side of the world once and the owl  _ still _ went the long way instead of taking the shortcut through her clothes.

Harry sat up and gently rubbed her nose. The owl apparently hated the experience, based on its reaction. She really didn’t see what was so bad about it, she’d been in the space before and it didn’t seem  _ that _ bad. Just, dark.

She unwrapped the delivery, revealing a relatively thin leather-bound book with aged pages. Why  _ did _ the owl go through the pocket space? It wasn’t like she was that far from Diagon alley. She opened the book and skimmed the pages, it was handwritten. She didn’t remember ordering this.

Harry frowned, headache pulsing, and flipped through the book. An illustration of a house elf caught her attention. It was a little off from the elfs she’d seen though. Its ears were smaller and looked more rigged. Eyes were smaller as well and it moved to hiss at her, bearing sharp teeth. She blinked in surprise. Was this even a house elf?

Harry flipped to the last page, another drawing filled the page. Her head jolted in pain as she registered the summoning circle. It was layered in three parts, an outside, middle, and center, each filled with runes that specialize the function of the layer. Magic surged in her head, and a bubble popped.

Harry hunched over as memories jumbled in her brain and a bottled up rage exploded from the back of her mind. She seethed as she sorted through the memories. They, The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore, they bound her. Harry flipped back to the elf, almost ripping the pages. The elf hissed, runes appeared around its neck, wrists, and ankles. The elf straightened expression blanking and bowed.

They  _ enslaved _ her. Pages crinkled in her grip. They made her  _ agree  _ to it. They just pretended she had any say at all  _ and then ripped it away _ .

And they did it thinking she was her  _ mother _ . Their friend. Harry laughed, furious and  _ smug as all hell. _

They bound her, but not all of her. She could  _ feel _ the split in her magic, half bound, compliant, receptive to orders, half not, wild and enraged. They bound Lily Evans.  _ She _ was  _ Heather Lily Evans Potter. _

There’s a reason they needed a ‘True Name’, and well, they just assumed. Didn’t they.

Her laugh became an enraged roar and she threw the book at the wall. It fell on the floor and bent awkwardly. They just  _ took her! They took her away from everything.  _ Though they weren’t as successful as they probably thought they were, they still  _ bound _ her.

She was going to make them regret this. Oh, she’d do what they summoned her for. They wanted Voldemort defeated? She’d defeat him all right. They won't like how she does it, but she’ll do it. Everything else? They could go fuck themselves on a pike.

Harry breathed out sharply through her nose and ran a hand through her hair. She brought her hand down and considered bindings. She couldn’t do much, unfortunately. Half her magic wasn't in her control. Her reserves had been effectively halved. It probably would be different if she was fully bound, but she wouldn’t have been able to tell something was wrong if that was the case.

There was almost nothing she could do with the magic that was free either. It was entirely focused on keeping her coherent and in control. She really wasn’t eager to mess with it. The consequences could include her autonomy, not that she had much anymore. They also took her mother's wand, she realized.

She needed help. She knew how to get it, but she’s not sure if it’ll work. For all she knew, she just wouldn’t be able to pass through. Harry walked across the room and picked up the creased book from her dimension. The owl did it though, and that had to count for  _ something _ .

Harry tucked the book into her pocket and let go. The book disappeared from her hand and she wished for her Firebolt. She was more thankful than ever that It didn’t need magic to use. Her fingers closed around the broom's handle and swept it out of her pocket. Harry grinned bitterly at the old broom and set it on the bed.

Harry slipped off her trainers and pulled off her jeans. She kicked her shoes aside and laid the garment on the floor. She picked up the Firebolt and pushed it into the jean’s pocket bristle end first. Once it was halfway she willed it to pull her in. The familiar sensation of being sucked in rushed over her.

Harry dangled from the Firebolt in the endless void of her charms master project. Dark mists swirled about and her belongings floated along the magic currents. White mist dotted the dark in gridlike patterns on what could be considered the ceiling. Harry’d come out of one of these white mists, them being the openings to clothes pockets.

She swung on top of her broom and flew away from where she came in. Harry picked a random opening and flew to it hoping it would let her through. The mist stretched on the broom's handle and she leaned forward, stretching the mist more from the pressure. Determination filled her as the broom slowly started pushing through. Harry laid flush with the broom and closed her eyes as the mist engulfed her. She was squeezed like she was being pushed through a balloon.

Everything lurched with a pop and Harry exploded from her closet and rolled on the floor as clothes were flung across the room. She jumped off her broom, relief and foreboding at the front of her mind, and grabbed the first pair of pants she saw. She hadn’t realized she could feel them, but the bindings were looser here. Harry shook her head.  _ Focus! _

Harry quickly exited her room and walked down the hall. She needed to get a message to someone  _ immediately _ , she had no idea how long she could stay here, or what could happen if she tried-

Muffled rattling sounded behind her.

Harry turned her head, the rattling noises getting louder. Foreboding turned to panic as white glowing chains exploded out of her bedroom, sending the door into the wall, and twirled around the hall like a demented party streamer.

Her wrists glowed and the chains immediately rushed her. 

Harry cursed and sprinted down the hall into the living room. The rattling behind her got louder and she lunged toward the fireplace. Harry frantically grabbed a handful of floo powder, sending it across the floor. Her mind raced, going through options like lighting, and she threw it into the pit.

“ _ MinistryOfMagic! _ ” she blurted and jumped in.

The green fire flared around her and spit her out in the Ministry atrium on her ass. Harry scrambled into a run, socked feet slipping on the marble floor. Wizards and witches yelped and fell as she pushed past them frantically. She practically flew past the check-in point, ignoring the wizard stationed there, and up to the elevator. She started rapidly pressing the buttons, looking back and forth from the buttons to behind her.

A witch screamed and Harry pressed the button faster, “Come on, come on,” She looked over the crowd and saw the white chains twirling in the air again, “ _ comeoncomeoncomeon, _ ”

All at once, her wrists glowed again and the elevator dinged, sending the chains after her and Harry into the elevator. The witches and wizards in it stared at her, she grimaced at them and slammed her finger on Hermione’s floor wildly, “ _ Don’tgetout _ ,” she growled.

They looked at her incredulously, one witch, Daphne Greengrass, sneered at her and made to go out, but then she saw what was rushing towards them and paled. Harry leaned to the side and pressed the button harder as the chains were almost there.

The door slid closed and she barked a laugh as the door dented in with a loud bang not even a second later. She leaned her forehead against the wall above the buttons and giggled shakily, adrenaline pumping through her.

“What was that?” asked a wizard hesitantly. Harry just shook her head against the wall and laughed harder.

“Potter,” Greengrass shook her slightly and Harry had to restrain herself from hitting the blonde on reflex, “Calm down. What is happening?”

Harry wheezed and turned to face the witch, “I’m-” she laughed again, “I’m being enslaved!” she gasped hysterically, suddenly finding it horribly funny. She pulled down a sweater sleeve and shoved her wrist in Greengrass’s face, the runes glowed conveniently.

Greengrass stared at her with dawning horror and the gathered magicals muttered in confusion, not really sure what she meant.

The elevator dinged, “ _ Minister of Magic and Support Staff,” _ it informed them pleasantly. Harry rushed out into the hall and sprinted to Hermione’s office. A paper pusher walked right into her path and they collided, sending papers everywhere.

Harry winced, jumped up, “Sorry!” and lunged over them. Slamming the door open, “Hermione!” she startled Hermione, making her jump, and turned back around, summoning a wand, to fortify the door, “You gotta help me-”

“Harry?” she asked, concerned, “What’s going on?”

“I got summoned to another dimension-” Harry turned to face Hermione, thoughts rushing like white water, “-it’s one that still has Voldemort-”

“What-?”

“-they want me to fight him and they turned me into a servant in the process-”

Hermione put her quill down and got up, “Harry-”

“-they’re turning me into a house elf, Hermione!”

“Harry!” Hermione grabbed her by the shoulders, “You’re not making any sense. What’s happening.”

Harry laughed furiously, coming back to herself.

“Harry,” Hermione guided her to a seat and sat her down, “Explain.”

“I-” Harry ran a hand through her hair, “You know how you gave me that research project on house elfs?” Hermione nodded, “Turns out wizards enslaved house elfs by summoning and magically binding them-” Harry’s runes glowed, Hermione gasped, the chains rattled against the door “-And I need you to find a way to  _ get these off because the Order used that ritual on me! _ ”

The chains banging on the door got louder and louder, “What’s doing that?” Hermione asked, horrified. The banging suddenly stopped.

Harry narrowed her eyes in suspicion and got up, pushing Hermione behind her, “Harry, I need more information!” Hermione whispered frantically. The runes burst with light and the chains barreled through the wall, avoiding the door. They shot straight for her and they latched on her ankles and wrists. 

The chains flashed and started pulling, making Harry fall over. They dragged her across Hermione’s office and halfway through the hole before she grabbed the wall.

“I’ll send you the books as soon as I can!” shouted Harry to the gaping Hermione. The chains yanked and made her lose her grip, dragging her past the horrified paper pusher and down the stairwell to the eighth level.

She slammed against the floor, forcing the breath from her lungs as the chains changed from downward to sideways motion. Sliding into the Atrium, witches and wizards gawked as she was pulled into the still open floo.

The fire opened to her living room and she was slammed against the hallway wall twice this time as directions were changed. As she was being pulled through her room she grabbed her Firebolt and a pair of robes before she was sucked into a coat pocket. 

She flew through the pocket void, she let go of the broom and robes, and was flung into a small mist. The opening  _ squeezed _ and something snapped, making her nauseous and sending fire through her ribs. Harry was launched out of the jean pocket and slammed into the wall. She gasped in pain and fell to the floor, coughing. She rolled over, breathing heavily, body aching from exhaustion and blunt trauma.

“Fuck,” she told the universe and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She got her nap!
> 
> lol
> 
> I actually have a different owl scene that got cut, If anyone wants to see it.


	4. Dogbane, Dock, and Coreopsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reads a book and makes breakfast.
> 
> Molly Weasley is Uncomfortable.
> 
> Children are Chaotic.

Flipping an egg, Harry grumbled and slipped the summoning guide into her pocket. 

Not long after passing out, she’d woken up to her bound magic screaming at her to make food. Her body ached and her chest felt like it was on fire. It was like the Dursleys were yelling at her through her magic. 

She’d tried ignoring the compulsions and pain by reading up what had been done to her, but all that did was give her a migraine. She eventually gave in to the magic and went to the kitchen. When she started cooking breakfast, her headache disappeared. So she multitasked and read through the book.

The Order had been dangerously sloppy with her summoning. The ritual could be customized sure, but witches and wizards were unfalteringly lazy. All they’d done was add to the summoning. So while she had to kill Voldemort, she was stuck with all the commands and bindings of the first house elfs.

Interestingly, in the past when a servant was bound, the binding went both ways. Summoners got servants. Servants got magic. Only a bit though, it wasn’t much but over time it built up, and with it being tied to the beings genetics, well. Harry guessed that was why modern house elfs like Dobby were so magically powerful. 

Harry grimaced and moved an egg to the platter beside her. It had already been filled but the binding demanded more even though many of the eggs were threatening to fall-

An egg slipped off the platter and slapped on the ground. Harry sighed in frustration and winced, breath catching on her ribs. Her rib had definitely broken when she’d been squeezed back into this universe. She was sure she had bruises everywhere, those chains hadn’t exactly been gentle.

Floorboards creaked and footsteps padded down the hall. Harry tensed and the kitchen door squeaked open, “Oh!” said Molly Weasley's voice.

Harry scowled and gripped the spatula tighter. The eggs sizzled. Molly’s footsteps walked up behind her hesitantly, “I didn’t expect you to be up so early Lily. Dumbledore said you wouldn’t wake up for a few days at least!”

Harry startled as cabinets and drawers opened and kitchen implements floated out and arranged themselves around her. “You should really be resting Lily, you didn’t have to start on breakfast! I appreciate the help of course, but you  _ must _ be exhausted! I know I am, yesterday's events just left me spent!” Bread floated above Harry’s head and settled by the egg platter.

Harry jerkily flipped a few eggs. Didn’t have to get started on breakfast she said? Was Molly stupid? Harry’s magic wouldn’t allow anything else. Sausages floated onto pans and spattered in the oil. Molly laid her hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s knuckles turned white on the spatula handle. “I know Dumbledore said you would be alright, but that ward affected you awfully much. I wanted Bill to look it over, but the Headmaster didn’t want too many people involved.” 

Harry narrowed her eyes at the pan. Maybe not stupid, Harry flipped over an egg consideringly, just heavily misinformed. Not allowing a warder to ensure the ward worked for the sake of secrecy? Who’s to say Dumbledore told them anything about what they were doing? They knew the gist of it, sure, but the nitty-gritty details? 

Harry turned her head to face Molly and studied the worried woman. Molly gasped. Harry couldn’t just assume they knew anything, but she couldn’t do the opposite either. Worst case they all knew what they were doing. Best case, but still bad, they didn’t know anything, including Dumbledore. And well. Dumbledore obviously knew what he was doing. Even if he didn’t double-check his components.

“Lily, your face!” Molly reached out and grabbed Harry’s head. Harry suppressed a twitch, “It’s bruised all down the left side!”

Shit, Harry could not explain that- “You must have fallen harder than we thought,” Molly fretted, “I’ll talk to Dumbledore the first chance I get, Lily. We’ll have that fixed up right quick, don’t you worry!”

Well then. Harry set down the spatula and pulled Molly’s hands off. Molly was a mother hen everywhere it seemed, but this is not how Harry had expected to be treated. She’d been made a house elf and well, it didn’t matter if they understood what they’d done, Harry didn’t want to disappoint.

Trying her best to imitate one of Luna’s smiles, Harry tilted her head and smiled dreamily, “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly bother to burden you and Master Dumbledore with something as irrelevant as that, Mistress Weasley.” Harry grimaced internally but noted Molly’s bewildered expression. Harry dropped Molly’s wrists and turned back to the stove. She turned off her burner and dumped the cooked eggs on the platter. Oil followed after and greased the top layer of eggs.

“Lily? What do you mean?” Harry heaved up the platter and walked it to the table. She set it down with a dull thud and a few eggs slipped off onto the table.

Harry forced a bubbly giggle out, making her rib smart, “As long as I can move, I can serve you, Mistress Weasley.” She gagged internally but pulled up conversations she had with particularly…  _ enthusiastic  _ house elfs. “It is my duty as a loyal Servant. To do otherwise would be the height of depravity. Why,” Harry plastered a fervent grin on, “I’d rather die!”

Molly shuffled uncomfortably and waved her wand at the scattered eggs, sending them flying into the bins. Her face was pulled into something disturbed and confused, “... If you’re sure Lily...“ she trailed off and paused before shaking her head. Molly focused on supervising the cooking nervously, seemingly trying to ignore Harry.

Harry tilted her head and narrowed her eyes briefly. Interesting.

* * *

Molly spent the rest of the time mostly ignoring her while Harry set the table and carried finished dishes over. She seemed to refrain from just magicking them onto the table just so Harry could carry them over. Harry didn’t know how to feel about it. Molly obviously knew she didn’t have her mother's wand and was trying to include her. It reminded Harry of her Molly, but it was getting on her nerves. 

Harry set a tub of mashed potatoes on the table and kept herself from reacting when twin cracks rang out from the hallway. A girl shouted and footsteps pounded down the stairs. Molly sighed behind her, “That would be the children,”

Two identical teen boys sauntered in with cheshire grins, “Morning, Mum,” they coursed. They beelined for the food and started loading their plates up. Harry stared at them for a second.  _ Right, _ she thought blinking at Fred, _ alive dead people. _ She turned to take care of the dishes piling up in the sink. They dutifully stopped washing themselves at her attention and she picked up the scrub brush. Molly frowned.

“I thought I told you two not to apparate in the house,” she scolded.

“It was a matter of instinct-” started George.

“-we smelled breakfast, and suddenly-” Fred continued.

“-we just couldn’t stop ourselves,” they smirked, “really Mother, you should be flattered that our magic likes your cooking so much, but-”

“-more importantly-”

“-who is this? Another member for the Order?”

“Or did you just drag some poor woman off the street to be your little helper?” Harry quietly choked, suppressing laughter, and twinged her rib. She winced and internally sighed in melancholic nostalgia. Harry missed this. Missed them.

“Kidnapping, Mother?”

“Scandalous!”

Molly lightly hit George on the arm, “You stop that!” she scowled, “You’re giving your poor mother a headache!”

“So soon?” Fred exclaimed, “Why, we’ve barely gotten started!”

Steps thundered up the hall and three annoyed teens stumbled into the kitchen covered in feathers and breadcrumbs. Harry internally goggled at how young they all were. They were practically babies. The twins grinned, “What’s got you three’s feathers ruffled so early?” George laughed.

They all scowled, “Did you  _ have _ to wake us up like that?” Ron groaned and slumped into a chair, “Who am I kidding? Of course you did,” He grumbled. Ron sniffed, perking up, and started sliding food toward himself.

Ginny’s scowl twisted into a poisonous glare and she stalked to her seat, “ _ Expect retribution, _ ” she hissed theatrically at the twins and stuffed an egg in her mouth.

Fred smirked, “Ooh, Gin-gin’s got her big britches on!”

“Are we scared Forge?” George grinned.

“I think not, Gred, but the jury’s still out.”

Ginny humphed in annoyance and shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate.

Hermoine rolled her eyes and plopped down by Ron, “Where did you even get that many pigeons?”

“Trade secret.”

Harry eyed the floor as she scrubbed a pan. The feathers were getting everywhere and Molly was looking steadily more and more exasperated. Molly sighed, “Let’s clean you three up. Fred, George, you two are cleaning the second-floor bathroom,” Molly lifted her wand and George opened his mouth, “Up-up-up! I don’t want to hear anything of it! It is far too early for nonsense like this-” she casted a banishing charm, “-Oh for Merlin's sake!”

The smattering of feathers multiplied into a thick carpet and scattered feathers into the air. They merrily floated about and covered everything- including the food. The kids flailed about in an attempt to keep their plates feather free. Ron groaned as some got in his potatoes. Harry tried to blow a few away from her but they stuck to her hair and clothes like magnets. She sighed as they stuck to the wet dishes.

“Fred! George!”

“Really woman it’s like you don't know us at all!”

“Just clean this up!”

The twins saluted jauntily and twirled their wands about. Patches of feathers immediately started decreasing. Ron’s relief was palpable when they were cleared from his meal.

Molly sighed, “Thank you boys,” she scowled, “but you're still cleaning that bathroom!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Molly nodded and continued tidying up. The kids went back to bickering and Harry zoned out, absentmindedly washing dishes. It was weird seeing them all so small. How old even were they? Fred and George were obviously around seventeen, apparating licenses and all. How much older was George from her again? Two years? Her counterpart here had to be about fifteen, same with Ron. If it was winter here like in her universe Hermoine would be sixteen, but no one was wearing winter-appropriate clothing. Plus there were no holiday decorations. It was summer, probably. Making Hermoine fifteen too. That’d make Ginny thirteen or fourteen.

Ugh, Harry felt so fucking old. They were babies! Little chubby cheeked children. Little baby children that kept  _ looking at her _ .

Harry eyed Hermoine and Ron talking to each other. They were looking at her every few seconds. In fact, all the kids were. They were trying to be stealthy about it, but they were failing spectacularly. Except for Ginny. She wasn’t even trying, just blatantly staring at Harry unfalteringly while she talked.

Molly frowned at a particularly loud exclamation from Ron, “Hopefully no one woke up to all the racket that’s been going on,” she mumbled loud enough for Harry to hear and looked at the teens, “You kids are being far too loud, there are people sleeping! Last night was right hectic, and everyone needs their rest. Quite a few Order members stayed here last night, so I want to see you kids being quiet!”

The twins gave her a thumbs up having returned to their breakfast. Ginny just grunted and Hermoine nodded resolutely. Ron frowned around his fork and swallowed, “You were yelling too,” he grumbled and stabbed a sausage.

Molly shot him a sharp look, “Don’t you sass me, I’ve already had enough of that from your brothers today.”

Hermoine raised her hand, “There was an Order meeting? Did something happen to Harry?” She asked worriedly.

Harry blinked and wiped down a knife. Something happened to Harry alright.

“Does it have anything to do with her?” Ginny piped up waving her fork at Harry.

“Who is she, anyway?” Ron asked.

“Oh, her?” George said flippantly.

“That’s just a random muggle mum abducted off the street,” Fred nonchalantly bit into some toast. Harry forced down a grin and Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“What, really?” Ron gaped.

Hermoine frowned, “Obviously not, Ronald. There’s no way Professor Dumbledore would tell some random muggle about this place. The twins are just messing with us.”

Ron glared at the twins, who just grinned, and grumbled, “Then who is she?”

“We could just ask her,” Ginny stated.

The other teens paused. Molly wrung her hands and sighed. Harry eyed the matronly witch, she seemed oddly reluctant.

“So,” Harry blinked and looked at Ginny. She was looking at Harry expectantly, “Who are you?”

Harry paused and plastered on a vacant smile, turning to face them fully, “My name is-”

“This is Mary Hopkin!” Molly spoke over her and Harry momentarily blanked.  _ What. _ Molly gently touched Harry’s wrist and looked at her meaningfully. She turned back to the incredulous teens, “It’s Order business, so don’t go asking her questions about it! She won’t answer anyway!” The implied command settled over Harry’s bound magic and her throat closed up for a second. Harry gaped.  _ Shit _ .

Molly continued obliviously, “She’s had a rough trip and needs rest,” Molly looked back to Harry worriedly, “You should really lay down Mary,” Molly gently pushed her out into the hallway, “If you don’t want to go back to your room the library is down the hall, there should be some couches in there,” She whispered and went back into the kitchen. The door clicked behind her.

Harry stared at the wall in silence. The kitchen erupted in sound behind her. She’d been muzzled and It wasn’t even on purpose. Harry turned and walked toward the library.

So, she couldn’t say anything to the kids about her situation. Presumably. Honestly, she could probably overpower the compulsion at the cost of a splitting migraine, but there wasn’t really a point in doing so. It’s not like she would've told them anyway. Harry sighed and opened the library door. She scanned the room and spotted the dusty couches. Hopefully, her Hermoine was working on getting her back somehow, but she  _ was _ the Minister. Busy schedule that job has.

Harry frowned and carefully laid down, minding her rib. Why give the kids an even  _ faker _ name? It made no sense. What was so bad about telling those kids her mom's name? Even if the Order was hellbent on not telling the teens  _ anything _ , her ‘name’ wasn’t even close to being secrecy worthy. Unless they were hiding the fact that they summoned her.

Harry ran a hand through her hair, of course they were hiding it. They wanted her to ‘defeat’ Voldemort. Can’t have that information going around willy nilly lest ol’ Tommy boy found out. Which was absolute bullshit, no one would believe that ‘Lily Potter’ came back to life unless they already  _ knew _ the Order was trying to summon someone to kill the bastard. Which would make it a moot point to even hide her ‘name’. They would already  _ know _ .

_ Wizards _ , Harry snorted faintly. How was she even supposed to kill the guy if they wouldn’t let her leave? Harry eyed the windows. Damn barriers stopped her from escaping. Her gaze wandered to where Slytherin's locket probably was and she grimaced. She would’ve taken care of it then, but she didn’t have the equipment necessary to deal with it. And to get the equipment she needed to get _ out of this house _ . She couldn’t even attempt to use fiendfyre with how fucked up her magic was.

She’d try to go back to her universe, but Harry doesn’t know how long she’d even be able to stay. Those chains were  _ relentless. _

Harry blinked and sat up abruptly, jarring her rib. She hissed sharply, Merlin she was stupid.  _ ‘Wouldn’t let her leave’ _ . Harry rolled her eyes, what was she even thinking. She didn’t need  _ permission _ , so what if the door and windows had barriers. Wizards don’t ward  _ walls _ .

Harry grinned, those chains had one use at least.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly knock down a wall right now. Harry sighed and slowly laid back down. The property was crawling with Order members, and the noise would draw  _ way _ too much attention. How they didn’t hear her slamming into the wall in the wee hours of the morning was beyond her.

Of course, from what she could tell they all slept through the chaos that was the Weasley family. That ritual must have drained them all dry. They’ll probably be asleep for the next few hours at least. She grinned, may they be cursed with perpetual magical drain. 

Harry furrowed her brows, Molly was up and about though. Harry stared at the ceiling and nodded. It really shouldn’t surprise her. The woman throws around wordless magic all the damn time. Not to mention how many spells she keeps going simultaneously when she’s doing housework. The Weasley matriarch was a magical  _ beast _ .

Speaking of magical power, Dumbledore probably had the most drain out of everyone. What with him heading the ritual and binding. Unfortunately for him and the Order, The bond takes magic from the summoners. The fact that they summoned a human person increased the magical cost exponentially. Harry’s grin pulled at her face, apparently, being an ex-horcrux came in handy sometimes. If she could figure out how to turn the bond parasitic it would most likely drain them all dry. Optimistically she would be able to control who got drained. 

But if not? Well. 

Serves them right for thinking it was even a  _ remotely _ good idea to bind an unwilling being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot DAMN this chapter beat my ass. Look at this motherf*cker, it's a menace but it came out great! JK, it legitimately murdered my brain when I tried to write it the first time. Harry was supposed to come down to the kitchen and *BOOM* its Sirius feeling bad and stuff. They were supposed to have a heartfelt conversation! but nooooOoOo
> 
> molly weasley busts in: This is my chapter now.  
> me: You are SUPPOSED to be SLEEPING  
> Molly: Sleep is for the Weak.  
> me: God! Fine. Be a BAd BItch Then I GUESS
> 
> im telling you that thing with the silence compulsion was NOT supposed to happen, or the twins prank, but APPARENTLY this fic just does whatever it wants!
> 
> *throws hands up in exasperation*


End file.
